


Happy Accidents

by Starrstruck_64



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Accidental Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Apocalypse averted, Caretaking, Diego Hargreeves-centric, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Implied Relationships, Jealous!Five, M/M, Mother hen Diego, Number Five is confused, Pseudo-Incest, Soft Diego Hargreeves, Stupid Arguments, completely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26424304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrstruck_64/pseuds/Starrstruck_64
Summary: You’re making a mess, is what Diego wants to snap back. Instead he hears his mom’s voice clear as day say ‘boys will be boys’ and without thinking he’s moving on autopilot.Diego can feel his hands clenching rhythmically at his sides before he’s moving forward to take the bowl from Klaus and ripping the apron off in one smooth motion. Discarding the bowl to the side he works on getting the strings untangled and slips the apron over his own clothes.“Out.”He has so much work to do. The pancake is beyond salvaging, the kitchen is a mess, and he’s fairly certain the batter is inedible.Aka: the fic where Diego’s mothering instincts go wild
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 18
Kudos: 189





	Happy Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt for TUA kinkmeme that got away from me...it’s strayed slightly from what OP prompted but by hand slipped.

It starts off in such a small way that Five doubts he would have been able to pinpoint the moment as anything other than friendly. Looking back, it should have been a warning sign for everything that was to come later. 

Klaus is already in the kitchen when Diego comes downstairs. That in itself is surprising; it’s early and Klaus can’t cook worth a shit. The fact that the room looks like a bomb went off has Diego’s eye twitching. 

Mom would be appalled. 

Her pristine kitchen coated in flour, eggshells littering the countertops, mess strewn about everywhere, at the center Klaus in her good apron looking sheepish. Would be appalled if she were here. May even admonish Klaus for making such a mess before shooing him out to set about cleaning up the wake of Hurricane Klaus.

“Bruder mein, you’re up,” Klaus chirps clutching the bowl, of what Diego thinks is meant to be batter, to his chest.

“Klaus what the hell are you doing?”

He regrets the question instantly because it results in Klaus flailing his hand sending batter flying as he points at the stove, where now that Diego is paying attention, he can see the burnt misshapen poor excuse of a pancake. “What’s it look like, I’m making breakfast.”

You’re making a mess, is what Diego wants to snap back. Instead he hears his mom’s voice clear as day say ‘boys will be boys’ and without thinking he’s moving on autopilot.

Diego can feel his hands clenching rhythmically at his sides before he’s moving forward to take the bowl from Klaus and ripping the apron off in one smooth motion. Discarding the bowl to the side he works on getting the strings untangled and slips the apron over his own clothes.

“Out.”

He has so much work to do. The pancake is beyond salvaging, the kitchen is a mess, and he’s fairly certain the batter is inedible.

Klaus squawks indignantly as he’s stripped of his apron and is looking at Diego oddly. “What the hell, Gogo?”

“I said out, you’ve made enough of a mess here,” and just like that Diego is tying the apron on and working on emptying the disgusting gelatinous batter and the burned pancake in the trash.

Klaus is still standing there looking at Diego oddly, and it sends another rush of frustration. Mom had the patience of a saint that Diego wishes he had a shred of it because right now he just feels annoyed. “Go wash up,” he tries again not pausing in his actions as he clears up the mess on the counter trying to see how he can actually salvage breakfast.

“Klaus, wash up or you’re not getting breakfast, and you know it’s the most important meal of the day,” Diego levels Klaus with what he hopes is an approximation of mom’s best motherly gaze he can muster. It must work, because Klaus just nods dumbly and backpedals slowly out of the kitchen and into a zombiefied Five.

Five had never been a morning person back when they’re were children, prone to acidic remarks and sleepy glares across the table; turns out being 58 in a 23 year old body did little to change the that fact. Five still hated mornings, only now he had coffee to soothe away the crankiness.

“Watch where you’re going,” Five grumbles nudging Klaus out of the way. “Why are you even walking backwards?”

That seems to snap Klaus out of whatever state he’d been in before, but what fumbled out of his mouth next has Five scratching his head in confusion. 

“I think I broke Diego?”

Five arches an eyebrow prompting Klaus to continue, and when that doesn’t work Five motions for him to keep talking.

“He’s being weird and he sent me out of the kitchen to, and I quote ‘wash up or I won’t get breakfast’ which would be bad because it’s the ‘most important meal’,” he pouts like that’s answer enough. Maybe it is but Five’s brain is offline until he gets at least two cups of strong brewed coffee.

“He’s right it’s important to fuel your body,” Five yawns.

“Yea but he...never mind you wouldn’t believe me unless you saw it,” Klaus shakes his head and sidesteps Five to go wash up before he figures out if Diego was serious about withholding breakfast.

Five rolls his eyes and continues to the kitchen, Klaus is likely blowing things out of proportion. Only the scene before him is jarring in a way Five can’t quite place his finger on.

Diego is wearing a pastel pink apron, odd but not that Earth-shatteringly unusual, and currently cleaning up the mess that undoubtedly came from Klaus. Still not too odd, Diego surprisingly had kept the neatest room growing up, Five suspects it stemmed from him not wanting to overwork mom which was a sweet if not misguided thought considering she was a robot and capable of the task. 

No there was something off about the scene unfolding and Five was going to figure it out. Just after he had his coffee. Which of course is when he notices that there’s a pot of coffee already brewed, and okay maybe he was thrown just a little by Diego in an apron.

“Is that coffee fresh,” he asks blinking to grab his mug from the cabinet only to come up short when it’s not where he left it. 

“Your mug is already on the table,” Diego supplies not looking up from his current task of wiping away strewn batter. “I hope you don’t think that cup of coffee alone is a suitable breakfast. You’re eating with us this morning,” Diego says wiping down the counter once more with Lysol for good measure. His tone leaves no room for argument and without his caffeine, Five isn’t exactly itching to trade barbs.

His mug is sat at the head of the table, he doesn’t think much of it, too focused on the fact that steam means the beverage was recently poured, and the smell itself is intoxicating. Five takes a cautious sip before he carefully takes his seat. It’s good coffee, strong brewed and robust, it does wonders for warming his core and knocking away any lingering sleepiness.

“What are you making anyway,” he asks once he’s halfway through the mug and awake enough to notice that Diego isn’t simply phoning breakfast in this morning.He’s got all four burners going and looks to be focused on chopping up fresh strawberries and if Five isn’t mistaken he’s making clotted cream...from scratch.

“Waffles for Klaus and Ben, an omelette for Luther, bagel and lox for Vanya, avocado toast and side of fruit with clotted cream for Allison, and fluffernutter French toast...with bananas so you don’t completely rot your teeth out,” he teases moving the berries in a bowl for Allison.

Five blinks and Diego remains just as cheery working on readying breakfast. He wonders briefly if he fell in an alternate universe, but before he can voice any thoughts out loud, Luther lumbers in and the moment’s gone.

Later when everyone is gathered around the breakfast table Five has half a mind to bring up his alternate universe theory listening to Diego talk about the secret to the waffles is adding vanilla to the batter, but his French toast is delicious and his coffee is perfect so he brushes the thought away. Besides, is it really so bad if the only change seems to be Diego’s homemaker instincts suddenly blossoming?

It’s likely a one off thing anyway, Five muses even as he watches Diego putter about the kitchen topping off drinks and platting seconds. 

*~*~*~*

It’s not a one off thing. Not even close.

What Five assumes would be a happy surprise somehow becomes a daily occurrence. It’s never uniform meals either it’s always something particular for each sibling, and Diego is freakishly good in the kitchen. 

It’s not that Five is complaining, he enjoys the coffee and he’s starting to get used to having an actual meal to start the day. It’s just he started noticingother things happening. Like the morning paper suddenly being left beside his plate of food. Again it’s odd but also nice?

And then he starts to really pay attention and realizes that breakfast isn’t the only task Diego’s busying himself with doing around the house. 

He finds his clothes pressed and on hangers laid across his bed one day. He doesn’t think anything of it, Allison still had a few items she dry cleaned so it’s plausible that she took his things too. It’s easy to credit Allison, up until he asks her what he owes her and she gives him the strangest look.

“For my clothes...? You took it to the cleaners right?”

Allison shakes her head looking at Five as if he suggested Reginald was Father of the Year. “I most certainly did not. How could I? You never let anyone in your room.”

Which is true, but then how had they been perfect pressed and starched?

“Well, if it wasn’t you...”

The question never gets finished because that’s when Diego enters from the laundry room with a basket of folded clothes at his hip and Five feels his world view tilt sideways. No way.

“Did you touch my clothes?” He asks and then promptly winces because it came out far more accusatory than he’d planned, but Diego takes it in stride.

Pausing at the bottom of the steps, Diego turns to face his siblings a bit surprised. “Did you not like the lavender water?”

Five blinks a bit confused but recalls the soothing scent he’d discovered pulling on one of his sweaters and it makes sense. 

“Were the collars too starched?” And Diego looks so genuinely curious to know how he messed up that Five feels a little guilty for even making him think he’s such an ungrateful ass.

“No, there’s nothing wrong...it’s all rather perfect. Just didn’t know you’d started doing other’s laundry.”

Diego rolls his eyes at that turning to head up the stairs, “well it needs to be done silly and it seemed like you all were allergic to running the wash.”

Beside him Allison let’s out a confused little huh, and Five can only nod silently in agreement. It’s odd but practical in a way so Five just chalks it up to Diego turning a new leaf and being extra helpful as they settle back into life at the Academy.

*~*~*~*

After the laundry incident Five decides to be more observant; it proves quite illuminating. He’s not sure how he missed it but Diego has been a very busy bee these past few months. 

Breakfast is now standard, and Five still isn’t sure how Diego manages to keep everyone’s orders straight. It’s not that they’re a family of picky eaters, they’re just particular...and yet Diego has everyone’s preferences down pat.

Allison is doing keto again getting ready for a role. Klaus and dairy don’t mix, not that it stops him from indulging. Ben has textural issues but refuses to turn away meals when they’ve already been prepared, which had lead to Diego meticulously watching Ben’s reactions to figure out what he actually enjoyed. Luther requires a very special diet to account for his altered metabolism. Vanya is not a fan of bland food and likes things surprisingly spicy, but hates overly salty things. 

Five has always viewed himself as being utilitarian where food was concerned. 45 years in an apocalyptic wasteland left scrounging for food to survive had erased whatever pickiness lingered from childhood. Still, Diego has managed to suss out certain items that were more favorable in Five’s opinion and had started having those things readily available. Which is why he isn’t too surprised when a particularly strong brew of coffee makes the grocery list, or when the addition of those Walker’s shortbread cookies (that Klaus loves to tease him about being an old man for enjoying) make their way to his office. Even the appearance of pistachio ice cream wasn’t all that surprising once Five realized Diego was keeping tabs on all their food preferences.

Five just didn’t understand the why of it all. 

Admittedly when they’d returned to a world with Grace still missing it had been hard. She had been the closest thing to a mother they had, and her absence was felt. Logically Five knew that they should be fine, they’re adults after all, and yet it was clear to see without Grace around they’d fallen into an almost laughable attempt at adulting.

Even Vanya, who had held her own apartment for a decade was prone to forget little things like dishes or remembering to go grocery shopping before the fridge was completely barren.Five didn’t think anything of it because he’d lived through worse, Klaus had been homeless for so long that just having a roof overhead seemed like a bonus to him, and Luther had survived on space food four years on a desolate camp on the moon. It was very easy to let house duties fall to the wayside.

Diego had agreed to move in last, and it only took the one breakfast fiasco from Klaus for Grace’s mantle to have an unlikely volunteer to fill the role of caretaker. What had started with breakfast that morning has morphed into picking up all the slack around the house. Breakfast had given way to snacks and other meals, there was the laundry incident, grocery shopping had been taken over, the house remained well maintained, and once Five had even walked in on Diego polishing silverware.

Five has known that Diego was close with Grace growing up, he just hadn’t realized how close. His brother was just as versed in homemaking as Grace had been. It was dare he say sweet to watch how Diego has taken to mother-henning everyone, one would have never guessed how soft their sharp tongued brother could truly be when given the chance.

Grace was gone for good, but it seems she’d left a capable Diego to fill her spot. The strangest thing of it all was how easy it was to just roll with the change. Diego was now the second youngest of them, he had no children of his own, a lifetime of inferiority issues, and a tendency to self-sabotage; and yet, in this role of pseudo-mom he flourished? It just didn’t add up at all

The most perplexing thing was that Five actually thought the role suited Diego well. 

*~*~*~*

After the silverware incident Five decides to investigate further. Surely he can’t be the only one noticing the changes. The others are bound to have picked up on how Diego’s mothering instincts have skyrocketed since moving back to the Academy.

It’s easier getting his siblings to talk than he imagined, though he does get some strange looks as well. Still, his chats prove to be quite informational.

He learns from Luther that Diego actually made him rocket shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches out of the blue. The act had caught Luther so off guard, and even more so the answer he’d received when he asked Diego why. 

(‘Can’t be a spaceboy without a rocket!’)

Klaus has stories in spades. It seems Diego known soft spot for his brother had translated into extraordinary levels of mothering. Five swears he isn’t jealous, but the way Klaus talks it’s as though he’s got Diego wrapped around his finger; he’s done everything shy of bathe the boy, and even then he’s gone through the trouble of tracking down bath bombs and bubble baths galore.

“He organized my dresser Fivey...but ugh he took my last good lighter,” Klaus pouts. “Can you believe he had the gall to say it was a real nasty habit and they’d kill me? Which is ridiculous considering the bitch upstairs won’t let me stay dead.”

There’s a lot to unpack there but Five is more focused on the fact that Diego legit confiscated Klaus’ lighter. And now that Klaus has mentioned it his room did look neater like someone had tidied up recently.

“Gogo’s always been a mother hen though, what do you expect he was glued to mom’s hip. He picked up all her motherly habits, might even be adorable if he hadn’t become such a worrywart in the process. You know yesterday he lectured me on not turning my clothes the right way for laundry. Mom used to do the same thing.”

“Well maybe you should have gotten the hint by now,” Five counters a bit sharper than intended. He’s not jealous, why would he be? After all Diego doesn’t leave Klaus little Andes mints and corny jokes on his bedside.

“Yeesh Daddio I’ll flip the laundry,” Klaus grumbles waving his goodbye hand as Five takes his leave.

Vanya swears that she caught Diego knitting the other day at mom’s old charging station. That it had been somewhat odd and for a second she’d thought him part Android before she realized he was in fact not glowing blue. Diego had also been sure to compliment her practicing and had gone so far as to buy her flowers to celebrate her first chair win.

“It was weird Five...I think he was knitting us matching scarves,” Vanya wrinkles her nose slightly at the absurdity of it all.

“Scarves? It’s the middle of July...”

“I think there were going to be hats too? Maybe a Christmas gift? Or birthday, but I know what I saw and he was definitely knitting things for us.”

Five isn’t entirely sure what to make of the new information but he thanks Vanya anyway on his way out.

Allison mentions how she’s caught Diego cleaning on more than one occasion. The moment however, that sticks out the most in her mind is the night she spilled merlot in her favorite cream colored cashmere sweater.

“You should have seen him. He was so calm, he just guides me to the sink and talked me through everything. Did you know laundry detergent sets wine in cashmere? Because I sure as heck didn’t, but apparently cold water and dish soap on a washcloth will get it out just fine.”

“Well that’s pretty great he salvaged the sweater?”

Allison nods in agreement biting her lip, “it’s just...when it happened it was odd, almost like mom was here. He actually told me, ‘don’t worry honey, a bit of Palmolive and it’ll be right as rain!’ It worked though, I calmed down, and he did fix the sweater.”

Ben can’t praise Diego enough it seems. From the second Five locates him in the library, his brother has yet to stop complimenting Diego for everything he’s done lately. He talks about how Diego makes him peppermint tea to soothe the Horror. How new books find their way to Ben’s room, or the fact that Diego had actually ordered him blackout curtains to help with the days Ben’s migraines reared their ugly head. 

“Oh and have you actually tasted his cranberry oatmeal cookies? It’s criminal how soft and tasty they are, seriously next batch he makes you need to try one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Ben, thank you.”

If anything after his talk with his siblings Five is just left with more questions than answers. He is also not jealous in the least bit.

Why would he be jealous of Diego babying the others? So what if they had snacks, and praise, and someone to tidy up after them? Who cares if Diego knew how to stop a migraine in its tracks or remove wine from cashmere? 

None of them had spoken about receiving countless post-it notes with little messages like Five had noted. The baby blue one that appeared on his office lamp stating ‘don’t stay up all night, Mister.’ The pale green one in the bathroom ‘good morning, sunshine!’ The pink one on the side of his nightstand that alternated between ‘good night’ and ‘sleep tight :)’.

Or the way Diego must have been taking time to rush up on his differential calculus and quantum physics to follow Five’s musings late at night in the sitting area. Five in his armchair excitedly chattering over the possibility of string theory, Diego in the opposite armchair working on the day’s crossword.

Why would he ever be jealous? 

*~*~*~*

Klaus and Ben are already sat at the kitchen by the time Five drags himself downstairs. The inseparable duo are in the midst of a heated debate over something when Diego puts two identical plates before them; two sunny side up eggs and two strips of bacon in the shape of a smiley face with toast triangles for hair. 

“Your mug is by the coffee pot, sorry haven’t had a chance to pour it yet,” and Diego is moving back quickly to the stove.

Five stifles a yawn as he makes his way to pour himself a cup. “Just the fact that it’s brewed is amazing,” he nods trying to stave off another yawn.

“I’m thinking breakfast sandwiches, I picked up some of those croissants you like from the bakery across from the library this morning. Did you want bacon or sausage?”

Five blinks owlishly at that, brain still lacking enough caffeine to make sense of the statement. It’s a quarter until 10, and Five knows for a fact those croissants are a high commodity often sold out by 7:30 every morning. Five doesn’t even want to know what time Diego got up to secure an order.

“Five...did you have a preference?”

Taking a measured sip Five tries not to overthink what it means that Diego knows his favorite bakery, and would willingly make an early trip for croissants unasked. “Bacon is fine with me,” he murmurs making a beeline for his spot eager for the distraction today’s headlines promise.

It’s once he’s sat down to begin his morning ritual that he actually starts to listen to the argument unfolding down the table from him and honestly he’s confused how the topic even came up but not surprised considering Klaus is involved. He is however, slightly disappointed that Ben is indulging such a remarkably stupid argument. Apparently he’d given his brother too much credit, turns out 16 years with only Klaus for contact had definitely had an impact on the Ben he knew.

Still, the merits of purple kool-aid over red kool-aid in the taste department was not a discussion Five ever thought he’d have to sit through. The entire thing made zero sense. After all colors didn’t have any bearing on flavor of any item, and the idea that kool-aid’s value could be determined by a color was laughable. And yet they’d been arguing this point since before he walked in and if anything it was getting more heated.

“Purple kool-aid is superior Benny, get fucked with your red bullshit,” Klaus argued leveling his fork at Ben the ‘so there’ implied.

Five should know better than to engage, and yet listening the the inane bickering of kool-aid colors is grating in a way that he didn’t know possible. He tries to focus on his newspaper, but when his eyes read the same line a third time while Ben and Klaus argue red or purple, he can’t hold back any longer.

“Color does not have a flavor, you mean you prefer grape kool-aid to fruit punch,” Five interjects not bothering to look up from his paper.

“Who has time to be that proper? Everyone knows what I mean anyway.”

“That you have inferior tastes in kool-aid preferring purple to red,” Ben pipes up snagging the bacon from Klaus’ plate leaving a half smirk on the smiley meal.

Klaus squawks swatting in vain at Ben for the breakfast theft, “au contrair Benerino, purple is superior and everyone knows it. I think being dead ruined your tastebuds, clearly they stayed in the veil.”

“Low blow,” Ben hisses.

Flipping a page, Five folds his paper in half reaching for his coffee mug and ignoring the squabbling as he adds, “besides, you shouldn’t be drinking that stuff anyway; too much sugar, and you of all people don’t need any extra sugar.”

“Five is right, those artificial colors alone are terrible for you,” Diego adds as he tops off Five’s mug of coffee.

“Ugh I hate it when mom and dad agree,” Klaus grumbles as he works on attacking the eye of his smiley breakfast letting yolk slowly overtake the plate.

Diego just rolls his eyes heading back to check the skillet of bacon on the stove. “Maybe if you would actually eat like an adult on your own we wouldn’t have to question your terrible choices.”

Five hums in agreement sipping his coffee. He tries his best to ignore the way his belly warms when Diego doesn’t even dispute their quasi-parental roles.

*~*~*~*

The day starts like any other, Diego up early already starting in on breakfast, and Five dragging himself downstairs in search of coffee. It’s a common enough occurrence now that Five would argue it’s practically a morning ritual how they work together.

Today is a treat because in addition to the more traditional breakfast fare of a Denver scramble, there’s a basket of warm blueberry lemon scones at the center of the table along with a bowl of clotted cream and lemon curd. 

Five has two of them with coffee. They’re light and fluffy and perfectly flavored with just the right amount of tart from the lemon and a hint of sweetness from the blueberries. They’re quite possibly the best scones he’s ever had and he had thought the cranberry orange ones from Bricks & Scones were phenomenal. Diego’s blew those pastries out of the water.

They’ve been together nearly six months living under the same roof, and truthfully Five thinks this is the closest they’ve ever acted as a family. Meal times had never been this warm under Reginald’s watch, and yet the easy familial camaraderie they’ve developed since moving in together feels natural. Five can’t imagine them any other way and he thinks Diego is mostly to thank for that.

They’d been aimlessly existing with one another until Diego moved into the Academy. Now there’s actual structure; it’s a nice change.

No sooner have plates been cleared, and Diego is already up and moving to prepare the soapy water to wash the dishes, while the others stay seated listening to Klaus talk about he fact that he’s coming up to his year six month sobriety chip. It’s congratulations all around and really Five would love to stay and enjoy the relaxed atmosphere, but he’s so close to a break through and he really should get to work. It’s with great resolve that Five manages to excuse himself from the table and gathers his dishes instead.

“Breakfast was exceptional, as always,” Five smiles working on clearing his spot.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I was worried about how the scones would come out. I’ve never made them from scratch before,” Diego admits with a sheepish smile.

“They were perfect, truly,” Five adds as he steps closer to put his empty mug in the soapy water.

“Will you be joining us for lunch,Klaus requested hotdogs. I can always make you a sandwich instead?”

Hotdogs in his opinion are disgusting, but the mention of a sandwich is promising. Still pausing for a sit down lunch truly isn’t in the cards, he has a lot of work to accomplish today and can’t afford any extra distractions. He’ll likely just have an apple or something in the study, and hope he can make it up with a dinner appearance instead.

“Today’s a packed schedule, but I’ll try,” Five amends when he notices the slight frown already forming on Diego’s lips. “Have a good day,” he adds and without a second thought he leans in, brushing his lips against Diego’s temple gently, his hand settled firmly at his brother’s lower back. 

It’s as if time freezes in that moment, but Five is oblivious to it all as he turns on his heels to leave for his study. He’s in a good mood, belly filled with tasty food and perfect coffee, he can’t be bothered to care about the varying levels of dumbstruck showing on his siblings faces, how quiet the whole room has gone, or how all eyes seem to follow his form out the door.

Five is halfway up the stairs when his next step falters and his mind comes to a screeching halt. ‘Have a good day,’ echos in his mind, and now that he’s focused he feels the phantom touch against his lips and the way his fingertips tingle from a memory. He’d kissed Diego, on the temple, in front of his entire family.

Fuck.

He blinks the rest of the distance to the study, not trusting his legs to make it up the rest of the steps. Once inside he’s quickly shutting the door with a resounding click. He hopes for once his siblings will understand the implications of a shut door.

Five doesn’t come down for lunch. He skips dinner too. 

He certainly doesn’t stay holed up in the study thinking about how perfectly his hand splayed across the small of Diego’s back or how natural it felt to brush a kiss to his temple in passing.

Instead he throws himself headfirst into Dad’s notebooks and resolutely ignores the bright orange sticky beside the office phone line; ‘even time-traveling geniuses need a break’. 

*~*~*~*

The sun has long since set when Diego makes his way up to the recently renovated study. He’s got a tumbler in hand, whiskey neat, and a determined set to his shoulders as he enters the room and lets he door shut behind him with a soft click.

Five is hunched over the desk, Father’s papers strewn across the polished oak as he tries to make sense of it all. Diego can already see the tense line of Five’s shoulders, and he’s silently congratulating himself for knowing to pour a double.

Diego is careful to place the glass on a coaster as he takes a seat opposite Five. He’s not quite sure what to expect, after all Five had been skipped joining them for lunch, and dinner for that matter after this morning’s occurrences. Diego’s not nearly as patient as Grace was, but he has learned how to read Five’s moods and this is one he just needs to wait out.

So wait he does, watching quietly as Five’s scrawl quickly busies the margins of Dad’s notes. The tumbler is half empty before Five bothers to glance his way and it’s fine because Diego knows they’re both stalling.

“Are we going to talk about what happened,” he finally ventures when it appears as if Five would rather stay silent.

That seems to do the trick. The pen is laid down with a soft thump as Five carefully straightens up to level Diego with a curious glance, before realization dawns on him. There’s a slight flush spreading across Five’s cheeks before he looks away focusing on the amber liquid in the glass between them.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says carefully and they both know that’s not true.

The skin has gone cool now, but if Diego really thinks about it, he can still feel the feather light touch of lips brushing his temple. They both know there’s something to unpack there and Diego isn’t letting it drop this time.

“Don’t....don’t shut me out, we both know what happened.”

There’s a slight groan and had Diego not been staring at Five as he whined he would have never believed the man capable of such a bratty tone. 

“What do you want me to say, Diego,” Five slumps back in his chair brows pinched together. “That I didn’t even notice what I’d done until I was halfway up the stairs? That I’ve spent the last few hours wondering why the hell it felt so natural, and why it can’t happen again.”

“Oh, and just why can’t it?”

Five has an argument ready poised on his tongue about how he’s not right for Diego, how they’re both just caught up playing house and it doesn’t mean anything, how Diego doesn’t really want him he’s just hung up on the affection, but all those words catch in his throat because in every iteration he ran through his mind Diego has never fought back.

“What?”

Diego rolls his eyes as he scoots forward in his seat like he’s talking with a spooked animal; perhaps it’s a fitting approach. “Why can’t it happen again?”

Five wants to argue that it’s silly, Diego can’t possibly want this, but there’s such an earnest expression on his brother’s face and Five has to wonder if maybe he’s read everything wrong. Why can’t it happen again?

“Huh?”

A small bemused smile finds its way to Diego’s face as he tries again. “Why can’t it happen again,” he asks arching a brow as if he’s trying to convey through facial expression alone that Five is being dumb.

Which is ridiculous, how can he possibly be dumb for wanting to save Diego from his twisted little family fantasy? Except Diego has this knowing look and his gaze keeps flickering down to Five’s mouth and maybe he is a little bit dumb after all.

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yea, oh,” Diego smirks faintly. “So, why can’t we?”

In every situation he’s mentally run through he’d never stopped to consider the fact that Diego might not oppose more. This changes everything. 

Five is quiet, weighing his options of how best to proceed in uncharted territory. Diego is patiently waiting for an answer and it’s such a stark contrast from the brash headstrong brother he knows that the next words tumble out of their own volition. 

“I’d be terrible at this.” When Diego remains quiet Five feels a flurry of panicked words start to bubble forth from his chest. “Relationships, I’m terrible at them. Delores used to tell me I was too work driven to properly maintain one.”

“I’m not asking for a white picket fence,” Diego murmurs. “What’s wrong with just letting things continue...to naturally develop?”

It’s a helluva Olive Branch. A promise to keep the carefully crafted dynamic, no expectations of what comes next, just an endless opportunity.

“So what, we play house and see if anything sticks?” It sounds stupid said out loud and Five is certain Diego’s going to realize it and take back the offer; he hates that the idea terrifies him.

“I don’t see why it’s a bad idea...nothing has to change. It just leaves an opening for more, if we want to...explore,” Diego offers a faint smile and Five tries to ignore the swoop of his stomach dropping out as his brain conjures possibilities.

After a moment Five gives a small nod in answer. “This may be the oddest proposition I’ve had lobbied my way. The fact that I worked for the commission two years is what makes it frightening, but I think you have a point. We should let things be and see if anything comes of this.”

Diego’s smile widens ever so slightly, and then he’s standing up to grab the glass of whiskey. “Now come on, its late, those papers will keep for morning. Besides, if you fall asleep at your desk again you’ll regret it; you’re not a teenager anymore you know.”

Five is poised to argue that’s right, he isn’t a child anymore and can stay up working if he wants, but there’s something about the way Diego looks standing there, glass in hand, eyebrow arched as if daring an argument, that silences his rebuttal. Instead Five finds himself standing with a slight wince as stiff muscles protest. 

Diego doesn’t wait to see if he follows, and there’s something thrilling about that. Five blinks his way across the office to catch up and flicks the switch without a second thought letting the office fall into darkness. 

Down the hall their footsteps stop in unison outside the master bedroom.


End file.
